


The Brightest String of Lights I've Ever Seen

by Kacka



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, F/M, Neighbors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 16:37:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8721076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kacka/pseuds/Kacka
Summary: Their Christmas feud might have been started because Bellamy is petty, but Clarke is petty too and she's determined to finish it. One way or another.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'We Need a Little Christmas' because it has lyrics about decorating. Suspend your disbelief about how much it costs to have a feud like this, or assume they think it's worth it.

**2012**

“No way in hell am I letting her get away with this.”

Octavia glances over, annoyingly unperturbed. “Is this about the new neighbor again? Because you really need to get over that.”

“If you’re gonna lecture me for holding grudges, you’re about twenty years behind.”

“Please. This isn’t your normal kind of grudge-holding. It’s the weird mating ritual limited edition, and you should just ask her out already so we can all move on with our lives.”

“It’s not a  _ mating ritual, _ ” he says, horrified by the implication. Or disgusted, maybe? Yes, surely it’s disgust. “She’s so damn pretentious I can’t even imagine.”

The pretty blonde doctor moved in a little over two months ago. Bellamy isn’t positive how their feud started but he’s sure any antagonism on his part is well-deserved. Case in point: she couldn’t just put up twinkle lights and tacky decorations like every other normal human being; instead, she transformed her townhouse into a picture-perfect, life-sized gingerbread cottage.  Porch rails turned into candy canes, her front door transformed into a candy bar with a peppermint knocker, she even made her mailbox look like it’s made of gumdrops.

It’s an amazing work of art and it offends every one of his sensibilities.

“Maybe she is as stuck up as you say,” Octavia grants. “But you don’t know that for sure. And she’s hot. There's no way you haven't noticed that.”

“Why are you even here?” He says, swiping the box of goldfish from her lap. “Eating my food, using my wifi and my couch. Don’t you have a dorm and a library and other places you can study?”

“It’s kill or be killed for library space right now, you know that," she says patronizingly. He’s not fooling either of them. He’s happy to have her home, even if winter break is only a handful of days away and she’ll be around so much he’ll get sick of her. He’s honestly happy anytime she  _ wants _ to come home.

“Are you gonna help me string lights or not?”

She looks down at her laptop and scrunches her nose like she used to when their mom would serve asparagus with dinner. “I think I’ve earned a break from this paper. And you have a tendency to fall off roofs.”

“That was  _ one time. _ ”

Octavia rolls her eyes, bundling up in her Gryffindor scarf he got her last Christmas. He smiles inwardly.

“One time too many.”

  
  


**2013**

“Tell me why we care about this again?”

Clarke gives her scissors a sharp jerk, curling the ribbon a little more aggressively than she means to. “Because last year I was caught unaware. This year I’m not going down without a fight.”

“Ahh, yes,” Lexa nods sagely. “The spite train. That’s one I can get on board with.”

“Please.” Clarke smirks at her. “You’re only helping me out because I promised I’d go with you to your cousin’s Christmas party.”

“True, but I like to think you wouldn’t have left me alone. Ontari will be insufferable enough with you by my side.”

“She does hate me more than she hates you.”

This year Clarke is turning her townhouse into an igloo, complete with fake snow and dozens upon dozens of twinkling snowflake lights. She and Lexa are adding fake frost to her windows when Bellamy wanders over, hands in pockets, smug expression affixed to his obnoxiously handsome face.

He’s honestly exactly Clarke’s type, except that she’s in a relationship and she isn’t totally sure he doesn’t hate her anymore.

It’s a work in progress.

“Changing things up this year, Princess?”

“Had to if I’m going to one-up the monstrosity across the street.” She cuts her eyes to where his lawn is already half covered with more colorful lights and yard statues than she’s ever seen outside a store. His electric bill must be astronomical.

“Monstrosity,” he scoffs. “You’re just bitter my decorations outshine yours. Literally.”

“Have you ever heard the word ‘garish’?”

“Have you ever heard of-- shut up?”

Despite her best intentions, her crossed arms and intimidation tactics, she finds herself biting her lip to keep a smile in. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Lexa pause in what she’s doing.

“Good one.”

“Bite me.”

“You  _ wish, _ ” she scoffs. His eyebrows lift and his eyes flicker to Lexa, who has an unreadable expression on her face.

He clears his throat. “No comment. I’m off to pick up this inflatable Santa I just bought on Craigslist. See you around, Princess.”

“Later, asshole.”

When she turns back to the decorating, Lexa’s features are smooth. She has the best poker face Clarke has ever seen but Clarke hates to see it.

“I thought you said he hated you.”

“I said he was my nemesis. That’s different.”

Lexa doesn’t say anything but her silence speaks volumes.

  
  


**2014**

Bellamy pops his head into the kitchen and the first person to look up and make eye contact is Clarke. Or maybe he just always looks to Clarke first.

“You need help with dishes?” She asks, despite the lethargy in her voice. Blonde strands are falling from her braid and she’s smiling at him softly from where she’s squished between Miller and the arm of the couch. The picture of post-meal contentment.

“Nah, I tagged O in. She acted like she’s doing me this big favor but really she just wants to spend one-on-one time with Lincoln.”

“So come sit,” she says, patting the floor in front of her with her foot. 

He’s tempted, he really is. Clarke incorporating herself into his friend group is simultaneously the best and weirdest thing that’s ever happened to him. He wants her around all the time and it’s sometimes hard to reconcile that with the way he used to despise his neighborhood rival.

“I’m actually looking for Raven,” he says. “Have you seen her?”

There must be something in his tone because Clarke’s eyes narrow immediately. “What do you need her for?”

“I have something I need her to take a look at. I’m hoping she can tell me why it isn’t working right.”

“Something,” Clarke repeats. “This  _ something _ wouldn’t be your motorized Santa that climbs in and out of your chimney, is it?”

He feels Miller’s gaze flicker from his game to Bellamy’s face and he resolutely does  _ not _ meet his eye. “Maybe.”

“Thanksgiving isn’t even over,” Clarke groans. “Can’t you relax for, like, five seconds?”

“Don’t tell me you’re giving up, Princess.”

“No amount of time in the world would give you enough of a head-start to beat me,” she says loftily. “You might as well hang out with us for a while. Right, Miller?”

Miller snorts. “Don’t drag me into this. He’ll start thinking I enjoy his company.”

“Screw you,” Bellamy says fondly, dropping to the floor in front of them and shouldering Miller’s legs aside so he can lean back against the couch. Clarke’s fingers immediately burrow into his hair, petting him and scratching his scalp in a way that makes him feel a little like a cat. 

But it feels good too, so he can live with it.

“Don’t think I’m going to go easy on you this year just because we’re friends now,” he warns her after a while.

At some point his head tipped to rest against her knee. While he can’t see her face, he can hear the smile in her voice when she replies, “I would never.”

  
  


**2015**

“I’m just saying, I think there’s probably an easier way to let Bellamy know you’re interested in him,” Lincoln says, eyeing the hammer in Clarke’s hands with a certain amount of caution. She’s hit her own thumb three or four times now, so it’s probably warranted.

“This isn’t about me being interested in Bellamy.” He doesn’t say anything and Clarke sighs. “Okay, so it’s like fifteen percent about me being interested in Bellamy. But I like finding cool ways to decorate my house.”

“Yeah, but-- an ice skating rink in your front yard is a little extreme.”

“I’m building Santa’s workshop. You don’t think Santa’s workshop has an ice skating rink?”

“I don’t think Santa’s workshop is a thing that exists in the real world so you had a lot of artistic license here.”

Clarke sighs. “That’s fair, I guess. But I have to top last year’s, so go big, right?”

Lincoln shakes his head with a smile. He does that a lot, shaking his head at Clarke’s antics. And Bellamy’s antics. She likes to think it’s how she plays her part in bringing him and Octavia closer: they can bond over the ridiculousness of their loved ones.

“How do you determine the winner?”

“Objective fact,” Clarke says, exaggerating her  _ duh _ tone to pull another smile from him. “Clearly I’ve been the winner every year.”

“And if I asked Bellamy?”

“He might disagree with me.”

Lincoln laughs softly at this. “Well, if you pull this off it’ll be pretty great. Hard to beat, in my opinion.”

“Thanks.” She beams. “I’ll make sure the paper comes to you for a quote.”

It takes the rest of the day to get the tiny rink built and filled. Lincoln heads out while she’s waiting for the water to freeze and when it’s finally done, it’s well after sundown. She’s too excited to wait till the next day so she grabs her skates and runs across the street to knock on Bellamy’s door excitedly.

“Clarke?” He asks, surprised.

She’s surprised too. He’s wearing soft flannel pajamas and an oversized sweater, and his  _ glasses _ which she’s only seen a few times. Suddenly she wants to forget about the rink and cuddle with him in front of a fire.

“Uh-- hi.”

“Hey.” His eyes drop. “What’s with the skates?”

That reminds her and she grins. “Bundle up, Blake. I have something to show you.”

By the time he shrugs on a coat and hat and laces up his boots, Clarke has laced up her skates and is taking her first tentative step out onto the ice. 

It’s not the smoothest surface, and to fit on the flat part of her lawn it had to be sort of on the smaller side, but it  _ works _ . She pumps a fist in the air and it throws her so off balance that she nearly falls.

“Whoa there,” Bellamy laughs, grabbing her elbow to steady her. “Looks like you need a little more practice if you can fall on a rink the size of a tissue box.”

“Don’t knock my rink,” she says, breathless from the cold and the thrill of it. She loves seeing things she’s made with her own two hands. It’s a feeling she hopes she’ll never get over.

“I’m not. It’s awesome.” He hasn’t let go of her arm, so she lets herself grip his bicep. “I just don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“That’s why I brought you."

“And here I thought you just wanted to rub my face in it.”

“That too.” As she turns to look at him, the lights in his yard blink on with the timer, illuminating his face. He’s smiling broadly, a goofy, endearing expression he seems to reserve only for her. 

She brings her hands to rest on his shoulders, stepping forward until her nose, red with the cold, nearly bumps his. With the lights and the undefinable magic that dances in the winter air, it’s all very romantic. Until she wobbles again, her feet almost going out from under her.

“Shit,” she gasps. His hands find her waist, clutching tighter.

“I got you,” he says, his huff of laughter visible in the cold. She lets the momentum of her fall carry her forward, into him, until she can press her dry, cracked lips against his in a warm, familiar kiss.

She means it as a question, an attempt to see if they’re on the same page, and his answer is to deepen it. It’s so  _ Bellamy, _ she thinks, giddy. So damn thorough and so damn good, because he doesn’t know how to not throw his whole heart into something.

They’re both a bit dazed when they pull back, but then she links her hand in his, steps down, starts to lead him inside. 

“Yeah,” she agrees. “You got me.”

 

**2016**

“I thought you’d be over this now that you’re living together,” Raven grouses as she tries to wrangle the animatronic Rudolph into position. 

“Nope,” Clarke grunts. “But I did think I’d be able to talk Bellamy into fewer lights. I’ve been trying to untangle these for an  _ hour _ . This is exactly why I never used them.”

“And that’s what paved my way to an easy victory every year,” he teases, dropping his hands on her shoulders. She relaxes instantly, leaning into his touch and turning to look back at him. 

“They’re my lights,” he says, dropping a kiss against her furrowed brow. “I can do that if you want to go help O sort through your boxes.”

“You’re sweet. But I can’t just let them win.”

“Okay, well I’m making cider on the stove whenever you’re done.”

She hums happily. “This was your plan all along, wasn’t it? You realized you couldn’t compete with me, so you get me on your side instead.”

“Yep, I’m an evil mastermind.” 

“Knew it.” 

“Worked out pretty well for me though, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.” She grins, her cheeks rosy from the chill. He’s in love with her and he’s pretty sure he’s going to tell her soon. “Worked out pretty well for both of us.”


End file.
